


Ash & Embers

by OnionRelish



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Banana Incident (Spies Are Forever), Pre-Banana Incident (Spies Are Forever), every SAF writer must write a detailed study of the staircase scene, so here is mine ahaha, there's maybe one fluffy thing and the rest is angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnionRelish/pseuds/OnionRelish
Summary: a character study of sorts into curt and owen's relationship before and after The Banana Incident. bon apple teethspecial thanks to jack from the SAF discord for inspiring this! i haven't written much curtwen angst so today i am changing that
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	Ash & Embers

Owen shot without hesitation. There was no smoking of the gun, or a cinematic swell of music, or any of that. Just a crumpled body on the floor of a grimy warehouse, and the heavy breathing of he and his partner. Curt was drenched in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead and his skin almost waxy looking. It had taken Owen weeks to find Curt after he had disappeared on a mission. Turns out, one of his fellow agents was a turncoat and compromised his mission before it had even begun. The Secret Service had inadvertently sent Curt walking into a trap. Though, Owen had his doubts about the integrity of the Secret Service ever since Curt had gone missing. What kind of government doesn’t utilize every possible resource to recover their best agent from the hands of the Russians? He had phoned nearly every day asking what they were doing to try and find Curt, and was met with the same response every time: We are doing the best we can with the resources we have available. That clearly wasn’t enough, though. Throughout his weeks of searching for Curt, Owen's doubts burgeoned, blossoming into a sickly shade of mistrust. In the Secret Service, in MI6 even. Despite being arguably one of the best spies in the world, Curt was also a living, breathing, loving human being with thoughts and emotions and ambitions and all of that. And for his superiors to just treat him like some sort of inanimate pawn only fit to use for their own sick sort of game, only to abandon him when he needed it most? It made Owen's stomach churn. 

Owen untied Curt as fast as he could, noticing the angry red marks on his wrists. Curt was bruised and bloodied, but he did his best just to focus on getting them out of here. He could worry about Curt’s wellbeing back at the hotel. They didn’t have much time, as someone was bound to come check on Curt soon, so Owen worked as quickly as possible. Curt’s body was practically limp, which was not good.

“Can you walk?” He asked, to which Curt responded with a slight nod of the head. Owen helped his partner to his feet, but Curt’s knees promptly gave out, and he stumbled into Owen’s arms. “Here, I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arm around Curt’s shoulder, the other man leaning on him significantly as they made their way through the maze of identical gray corridors. It reeked of something moldy, and the lighting was harsh but dim. And yet, Curt still looked beautiful. His jaw was set with determination, and there was a sort of unbroken fire in his hazel eyes that gave Owen the assurance that he was not going to stop fighting until his dying breath. He admired that quality of Curt’s, his resolve to stay alive even against the greatest adversity. A bullet whizzed by their heads, shaking Owen out of his thoughts. Pulling out his gun, he turned his head to look back at whoever was shooting at them, resting his finger against the trigger and pulling it, sending a bullet straight into the assailant’s chest. The energy around him was almost buzzing, and somehow, the idea that he had killed a faceless, nameless man who was intending on hurting Curt was extremely comforting. 

“Why are you here?” Curt’s question hung in the air as he sat on the hotel bed, Owen rummaging around in the first aid kit he’d brought for the appropriate supplies. He had expected Curt to be in a bad position, but nothing like this. The other man was littered with dark bruises, yellow and purple like those sickly summer clouds during a thunderstorm. Quite a few of his fingers were mangled and broken, along with some ribs and both of his knees. There were various scrapes and gashes across his face, arms, shoulders, pretty much everywhere. His meager training in the field of medical aid surely wouldn’t be enough to tackle this problem. 

“We need to get you to a hospital, love.” 

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Did I need to?” Owen didn’t even look up, withdrawing some antibacterial and some bandages. Curt was silent for a moment. “I can help with the cuts, but I can’t do much else.” He paused, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Curt sighed, “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m not saying sorry because I can’t help, I’m sorry that I had to be the one to save you.”

Curt looked confused, “Why?”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to help you, but your government should have handled this. They barely even tried to get you back, they didn’t want to ‘waste the resources’ as your dear director, Cynthia Houston, put it.” 

Curt bit his lip, “They have more important things to think about than one agent, Owe. We’re in the middle of a Cold War, after all.” 

Owen just became more and more upset, practically fuming at this point. “But you’re the best spy the Secret Service has! You’re not just some plaything, Curt, you’re a human too!” 

Curt rested a hand on top of Owen’s, his touch still characteristically soothing despite his bloody, broken fingers. “I’ve never seen you this angry before, Owen,” he said softly, yet matter-of-factly. 

“I just don’t know what I’d have done if something happened to you, Curt. I was so scared I was going to lose you and–“ 

Curt leaned forward and kissed him gently. “It’s okay. I’m here now, and we’re safe.” 

Owen shook his head, “While I admire your optimism, love, we’re not. And we never will be. Not when there’s people like this still in the world, and there always will be.” They sat in silence for a bit, but it was less comfortable than the last. Owen cleaned Curt’s wounds as best as he could, offering his hand for the other man to squeeze when it began to hurt. He wrapped the last bandage over Curt’s bicep, placing a kiss on top of it as if that would help make it heal. It was a silly ritual, but one that they had held fast to every time they helped tend to each others’ wounds. “I love you, Curt.”

“I love you too,” he said. 

And Owen had to wonder why. Why did Curt, who was sweet, and kind, and handsome, and strong, love him of all people. Curt had a certain morality to him, a strong internal compass that hindered and sometimes even prevented him from doing the things Owen wouldn’t give a second thought towards. Curt was so unbelievably patient, and he was good to Owen. Curt always put others before himself, hiding his surprising humility with a cocky facade. His partner treated him not only as an equal, but with a certain amount of unadulterated adoration and tenderness, something Owen loved but did not feel he was worthy of receiving. After all, he was broken. And he had done awful things to people that he certainly was not proud of, ruined lives for innocent people under the guise of saving the world. 

“Why?” Owen’s voice was quiet, but there was a certain air of forcefulness to it. Curt looked up at him, his eyes holding that same care and love that he had missed so dearly while Curt was missing.

“Owen, I know that you have a hard time believing that you’re a good person–“

“Because I’m  _ not _ .” Owen cut Curt off. “Love, you keep looking and reaffirming me but there’s nothing there. You can search my heart all you want, but there isn’t an ounce of good in there.” 

“That’s not true. You came to save me when no one else would,” Curt’s tone was more serious. “You risked your life for me, Owen, not even knowing if I was still alive or not. If that doesn’t prove you’re a good person, then I don’t know what does.” 

Maybe, just maybe, Curt was right. Maybe he could salvage something from the shambles that was his soul, the raw and burning remains of something that he once considered irredeemable. He’d killed people in cold blood, he’d tortured innocent people for information they didn’t have, he’d done whatever MI6 told him to do, and had hated himself for it. But something about Curt’s words softened him, made him reconsider. 

Owen said nothing, just pulling Curt closer to him in a hug, trying his best to be gentle with his partner because of all he’d been through at the hands of the Russians. He breathed in Curt’s smell, a scent he’d initially hated but now found more comforting than most anything else. He smelled of whiskey, of the baked heat of August, old leather, and reckless passion. Mixed in was the stench of sweat and blood, but Owen didn’t mind. 

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said.

Curt lay down on his back, sighing contentedly and motioning for Owen to join him. “I’m too tired, let’s just rest tonight. We can deal with everything else tomorrow.” 

And so they did. They lay in bed, their breathing becoming light and airy. Curt soon dozed off, and Owen didn’t blame him. But he mulled over Curt’s words. His past actions weren’t forgivable by any means, and he’d live with the consequences of his deeds for the rest of his life, but could he have the potential to be something good again? Owen had spent his life training himself not to feel, not to get attached. And all of that melted away when he met Curt. The other man helped him to feel again, to allow himself to let down his guard. And the thing was, Curt thought that he had seen Owen’s soul, but he hadn’t. Not truly. Curt had seen him in bad light, on missions in particular. But not at his worst. He couldn’t let Curt see him like that. Somehow, though, he felt that Curt would continue to hold onto hope that he was a good person even then. His partner always had a pension for obstinacy, after all. But what if it was too much, even for Curt to see? Owen’s darkest parts were  _ dark,  _ and as much as he hated to admit it, he was scared of Curt seeing him like everyone else did. But then Curt’s words came rushing back to him. Maybe he could change, forget the past and grow in the future. Maybe Curt was right, and he was a good person. And he almost believed it.

* * *

“Here’s some advice, Curt. It’s called  _ moving on _ .” Owen stared down at his partner. That was the wrong word. What exactly was Curt? ‘Enemy’ made it sound like Curt was fighting just as hard against him, but ‘ex-lover’ didn’t carry the same disdain and seething hatred that Owen felt towards the other man. No, what surprised Owen the most was how much Curt had changed in the past four years. Gone was the resilient, determined man he knew, and now all that was left was this washed up, silently resigned agent standing before him. Then again, Owen had changed drastically as well since Curt left him in that weapons facility. He shut the world out again, shut his feelings within his heart, consumed with this fire, this rage. It had taken so much strength to open up to Curt, to let him in and bare his soul for the other man to see. And this is precisely what he got for being vulnerable, he was bound to get hurt no matter what. Owen regretted ever loving Curt Mega in the first place. The other man had brought him such joy, but it wasn’t worth the crushing pain in his heart that haunted him like a specter every single day of his life. The ghost of what was lost and what could have been tormented Owen day and night, and he eventually found himself wishing it never happened in the first place. He found himself loathing the past, resenting it with zeal. “Do give it a try.”

Curt shakily held his gun up higher, his brows furrowed intensely, his teeth grit. He felt the exact opposite of Owen, he yearned for the past, for their relationship to be how it was before Owen’s fall. He still loved Owen deeply, too deeply for his own good. And he was ready to love again, he  _ wanted  _ to love again, but there was no one to give that love to. But as Owen spoke, Curt realized that nothing could possibly fix this. There was no possible way to make this right, it was far too late to salvage this burning heap of ash and embers they once called love. He tried desperately to see any good left in Owen, anything at all. But there was nothing. This was not the same man who searched for him for weeks when no one else would, who tended to his wounds and kissed them afterwards. While there may have been some hope for redemption before, now there was nothing. Owen was an empty shell of a man, a husk that would crumble in the wind with the slightest touch. A rotting heart, decaying and dead. Blackened by hate, cracked and bloody and raw. A rose once so lovely, but now irreversibly wilted. And Owen was right. He  _ was  _ irredeemable. A part of Curt darkened at the sight of the man he once loved so incredibly broken. He wanted to fix this, he  _ needed  _ to fix this. But he couldn’t. He shot the gun out of Owen’s hand. 

“You know, killing me won’t take the system offline.” Curt’s hands stopped trembling. Owen looked down, the familiar warmth in his brown eyes replaced with something steely. He stared down at Curt, wordlessly begging him to end this for good. His only rest from this eternal torment would be in death. “So what are you doing?” Owen’s voice was strangely calm. It wasn’t a plea, and it didn’t even sound like a question.

Curt took a deep breath inwards. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. But there Owen was, standing before him, his expression blank. This was the face of a man who had seen too much, who had experienced life at its hardest, and was ready to die. This was not the Owen he knew and loved. He lined up his shot. “Taking your advice.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! please leave kudos & comment if you enjoyed bc i desperately need affirmation from  
> a. my english teacher  
> b. random people on the internet
> 
> have a nice day & remember to stay hydrated!!


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